


Those Famous Last Words: Careful What You Wish For

by Ad_Absurdum



Category: Music RPF, Real Person Fiction, The Smiths
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, Pic-fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2013-07-20
Packaged: 2017-12-20 20:28:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/891509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ad_Absurdum/pseuds/Ad_Absurdum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Out on a photo shoot, revelations ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those Famous Last Words: Careful What You Wish For

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Never happened. All slander and lies.  
>  **A/N:** Hm, I seem to make the titles longer and longer with each fic. Morrissey is to blame, surely.  
>  The Peter in this fic is Peter Ashworth (thank you, Aly), the author of the photograph in question.  
> Also, one of the very few Johnny/Mike fics I've ever read *trololol*.

"Guys, let's do something different," Peter huffed in mild frustration as they all sat on the ground.

After the trek up that hill (it didn't seem that high when they started climbing), they all could use a little rest.

"Like what?" Morrissey regarded him with a speculative eye.

"I dunno." Peter sighed and looked at his camera. "It's just that I feel I always end up photographing you the same way."

"What do you mean?" Mike leant back to rest on his elbows.

"You're always huddled together or there's Andy and you and then Johnny and Moz. I want something different," Peter said in a determined tone.

He looked at he group. They didn't seem bothered by his sudden need to make artistic difference in the world of rock photography generally and The Smiths corner of said world particularly. They all waited patiently, one could say passively, for Peter to finally decide what it was he actually wanted.

Peter stared hard at the musicians, trying to think of something. Mike was, to all appearances, sunbathing: face up to the sun and eyes closed, Johnny was rubbing his shades against his jeans, wiping an invisible smudge from the lenses, Morrissey was contemplating a blade of grass he was twirling between his fingers and Andy was staring into space off to his left, a vacant expression on his face.

Peter narrowed his eyes. He got up and looked at the group from above. Hm, maybe if he shuffled them round a bit... Or separated?

He cocked his head to the side. Yes, this could work. They'd have to move off the grass, though. Such vibrant green never worked well as a backdrop for anybody's complexion and especially not for pale Northeners.

"I want you in pairs," Peter finally announced.

"Pears?" Mike turned his head from the sun and looked at Peter, squinting.

Morrissey stopped twirling his blade of grass, Johnny raised his eyebrows above the rim of his shades and even Andy turned to stare at him, his expression outwardly the same, but in truth he was wondering if they were going to be ordered to pose like some fucking still life, complete with skulls, pears, dead flowers and half-peeled lemons.

"Yes, pairs." Peter wasn't sure what was so odd in that. "Johnny, sit with Mike, would you? And Morrissey, get closer to Andy."

Peter was fiddling with his camera so he missed the collective look of relief that crossed the four faces in front of him. Nor did he notice the somewhat surprised and rueful smiles that followed. He did hear, though, Morrissey's murmured "And all our hiding in vain; as usual" and as he raised his head to ask the singer what he meant, Peter nearly dropped the camera in shock.

There was an orgy before his eyes!

Well okay, not really an orgy. When he got over the first shock and looked properly, it was only Mike and Johnny kissing. Rather heatedly, but still with their clothes on. Which was good.

Peter darted a glance at Moz and Andy who were evidently a little more restrained than their extrovert friends and were only nuzzling each other.

But still. Jesus.

"What the hell are you doing?" Peter hissed, looking quickly around to see if anybody noticed one of the most famous bands in the UK making out with each other.

Fortunately they were alone at the hilltop so no scandal appeared imminent.

Johnny and Mike finally parted with a wet smack of their lips. High time too because Peter was starting to revise his opinion on the whole orgy business.

"What?" Johnny's eyes opened lazily. "We thought you knew. You told us you wanted us in the pairs we normally make in real life. As opposed to publicity shots."

Peter gaped like a landed fish. More so than at the beginning, actually. So this was the natural state of affairs for the group?

Mike burst out laughing. "He didn't! Oh fuck, we've just outed ourselves to the poor bloke. Peter, don't freak out, all right?"

Johnny snorted and Morrissey groaned, but he too was hiding a smile - in Andy's shoulder actually.

Peter finally caught his breath and scowled. He wasn't freaking out, damn it. He was a professional and a bit of homo-loving wasn't going to faze him. Right.

"You guys are serious?" he asked just in case. It couldn't hurt to check.

"Yep." Johnny buried his nose in Mike's hair.

Well, okay. Cool. He could work with that.

Although...

"Has anyone ever seen you like this?" Peter frowned. "You're not exactly 'out' to the world."

Surely _someone_ would notice something like this eventually. On the other hand, he wasn't with the group 24/7 now, was he? Maybe their crew knew? Maybe the label? And what was it really to him? They were grown up people, they could do what they wanted.

Except Peter was pretty sure Mike and Johnny were actually married and _not_ to each other.

"It's a private matter," Morrissey said matter-of-factly. "And our private lives are nobody's business."

It was hard to disagree with that.

Peter watched as Morrissey took Andy's hand and entwined their fingers. Andy glowed, literally _glowed_ , at the attention.

Bloody hell. Peter wouldn't have believed if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes.

"Hey," Peter narrowed his eyes, abruptly remembering something. "Aren't you supposed to be celibate?" Namely Morrissey's loud and frequently made proclamations.

"I am," was the easy reply. "Besides, haven't you read that I am a _lapsed_ celibate?" Morrissey smiled at Peter cheekily. Andy's face turned slightly pink and it looked like he couldn't suppress a smile.

There was a muffled laughter from Mike and Johnny's side and Peter finally shook off his stupor. This time it really was high time because Mike's shirt was halfway unbuttoned and Johnny's hand was moving steadily lower.

Christ, Peter didn't know these two were also exhibitionists.

"Hey, guys, let's keep it G-rated, all right?" Peter gathered his professional wits about him. "Right, okay."

Well, he wanted something different, now he had it. Now what?

Frankly, the situation seemed just too intimate for a photo shoot and Peter felt vaguely like a voyeur. Not to mention these were, as Moz so astutely put it, the band's private lives - not the best idea to present them to the general, even if adoring, public.

In the end he took only one photograph, convinced by Morrissey, of all people.

"Come on, one photo. We'll behave," he'd said.

They did too, sort of.

Johnny and Mike were still cuddling, too intimately to pretend this was anything else than what it really was, but thankfully Moz and Andy sat slightly further apart. Well okay, not really further apart, but Morrissey no longer lay with his head on Andy's belly, which was a progress. Andy lowered his face to hide his still pink cheeks and soppy smile, but all in all, everything looked far less incriminating than before.

Peter sighed. Be careful what you wish for indeed.


End file.
